


Amelia Cahill and the All-Seeing Eye

by astrologians, ztannas



Category: The 39 Clues - Various Authors
Genre: 1930s, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Indiana Jones, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-06
Updated: 2013-02-08
Packaged: 2017-11-18 02:36:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/555945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrologians/pseuds/astrologians, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ztannas/pseuds/ztannas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oxford's youngest professor embarks on an expedition to uncover the lost tombs of a very famous Pharaoh and his faithful servants, but is there more to her mission than she says?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by the Indiana Jones franchise and the movie/graphic novel "Les aventures extraordinaires d'Adele Blanc-Sec." 
> 
> Co-authored by Jules.

Jake Rosenbloom had not wanted to attend the gala that night. He didn't know the societal rules of mingling with the uppercrust and didn't care to learn. All that mattered to him was the dig—and not the fundraising that came before it.

The event just seemed like an excuse for the wealthy and powerful to flaunt just _how_ wealthy and powerful they were—not how interesting they thought Egyptian artifacts were.

However, he couldn’t refuse when Amy had asked him to accompany her. She had seemed so excited and he hadn’t had the heart to tell her no one really cared about what she had to say—just the fancy hors d'oeuvres and free champagne. Plus, it was gave him an excuse to see her outside of the university (the occasional drink at the local bar didn’t count).

Unfortunately, she had phoned that she was running late and told him to go on ahead, so he hadn’t seen her yet. In fact, it was getting close to her allotted speech period and he was a bit worried that she’d miss the opportunity to sell her expedition idea to the room-full of rich, drunk intellectuals.

He caught sight of one of Amy’s students, a wispy-but-intrepid girl named Rowan Foster, and called out to her, hoping she’d know where her professor was.

“Hey, Prof,” the girl answered a bit too brightly, her hand clearly hiding a champagne flute behind her back, “what’s up?”

“You know I’m not your teacher,” he shook his head at her, chuckling at her attempt to seem nonchalant, “I don’t care if you’re drinking.”

He glanced around at the company they were currently keeping—mostly retired professors and their much, _much_ younger wives—and tipped his glass towards her, “In fact, I’d be worried if you _weren’t_ trying to sneak a drink.”

She grinned and clinked her drink against his, before drowning the rest of the liquid in a highly unladylike fashion.

“Have you seen Am—” he cleared his throat, realizing the girl may not know her teacher’s first name, “I mean, Professor Cahill?”

Rowan shook her head distractedly, already looking around for another waiter to take her empty glass, “I thought she would be here before anybody else.”

“Me, too…” Jake murmured, “she was supposed to be here with me.”

Rowan plucked a new glass from the serving tray offered to her and turned back towards him, “Did you say something?”

“Nothing, it’s just…” the guests had started to congregate toward the speaking platform, but there was still no sign of the honored speaker herself, “she should be here by now.”

Rowan shrugged, “I wouldn’t worry about it—the Professor can handle her own pretty well.”

“But she wouldn’t miss the chance to talk about her precious expedition,” he looked over Rowan’s head at the crowd forming around the stage, “there’s something wrong.”

The younger girl shrugged again and stalked off to get a good view of the podium, leaving Jake to imagine the worst case scenarios of his colleague’s absence.

-

Professor Amelia Cahill was a nervous wreck.

Her hands were shaking so badly that she was worried she wouldn’t be able to read her notecards. She kept taking deep breaths to calm her knotted stomach and to keep from vomiting. She’d had a few glasses of champagne in hopes the alcohol would settle her nerves, but so far she only felt lightheaded and a bit uneasy.

She had thought she was prepared for this, but she didn’t expect the crowd to be so… _crowded_. There were just so many people in the ballroom—and they were all there to see her. They would soon be staring at her as she spoke, judging every syllable and every gesture. The pretty wives of the old professors and doctors would judge her on a different plane, of course, and perhaps that was even worse. She would be among a group of women who carried pride in themselves and their image. They would whisper about her hair and her dress and her lack of makeup, even her posture would be scrutinized. She wasn’t sure what appraisal made her more nervous—that of her ancient colleagues, or of the high-class women her own age.

She’d just reached for the bottle of champagne she pilfered earlier from the kitchens to pour herself another glass, almost knocking it over in shock when the coat closet door opened.

Jake stared down at her as she regained her composure, “Should I even ask?”

She shifted over to make room for him among the furs and leathers, ignoring his curious looks. She didn’t need _his_ judgment, after all, when she had an entire ballroom’s-worth.

“You know,” he took the bottle from her hands and drank a swallow before continuing, “if you didn’t want to do this you could’ve said something.”

“I did want to do it, though!” She protested, snatching the bottle back from him, “I just…didn’t think there would be this many people.”

She ducked her head, staring at the notecards in her hands. The speech was some of her best writing and, now, no one would ever hear it—except Rowan, and the mirror, of course.

“I could read it for you.”

Amy glanced up at his words, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “What?”

Jake sighed, running his fingers through his hair—a sign that he was fed up with her—and repeated himself, “I could give your speech.”

She found herself nodding before she’d even registered what she was agreeing to—an effect her friend always seemed to cause in her—and handed over her notes. Jake had always been the better speaker, anyway. He was more personable, and charming, and even persuasive—she knew he would do an excellent job. After all, the women were the ones who controlled their husbands’ wallets and Jake _was_ very handsome… He could definitely win the hearts and minds of the audience without even stopping for a breath.

But there was one tiny problem that needed to be dealt with before he could go on stage in front of their future investors.

“Jake,” she hesitated, her hand tugging on the chain around her neck before gesturing to his chest, “did you tie that yourself?”

He looked down and fingered the rumpled, emerald tie over his dress shirt, “What’s wrong with it?”

Amy bit her lip to keep from laughing—the knot was too loose and the lengths uneven, like it was done by a child. She supposed he hadn’t much use for ties in his department anyway—he was more hands-on than most anthropologists—but it still seemed odd for him not to be able to dress himself properly.

“Come here,” she said, a grin flickering on her lips, “I’ll fix it.”

 He rolled his eyes, but leaned forward, watching intently as her fingers skillfully threaded the accessory into a half-Windsor knot.

“My brother could never tie his ties himself when he was younger so I learned for him,” she said, yanking the garment once more to be sure it was snug, then leaned back to appreciate her work, “There, that looks nice.”

He nodded his thanks, flattening the tie against his chest, “I’ll trust you on that.”

He offered her a hand and she accepted, holding the skirt of her dress up as she stood as not to trip over the long fabric. She brushed herself off, just in case she’d been sitting in dust, and smoothed the satin ribbon around her waist. The dress was simple compared to the other female guests who came inside in a rush of sequins and taffeta. Amy’s gown had no sparkle or fluff, only a deep blue color that shimmered in the bright lights and a neckline she initially felt was much too low until she added a final touch. The pendant that sat on between her breasts was large, and probably ostentatious to some, but it was a gift from her mother and she never had an occasion to wear it before now. It looked like a locket of some sort, but there was no crease or opening that she could find. The Eye of Horus was carved onto the metal—“to remind you that I’m always watching you, always protecting you,” her mother had told her upon bestowing the necklace.

“Amy?”

She glanced up at the sound of her name, dropping the necklace back against her chest, “Did you say something?”

“Just that it’s nice to see you in a dress,” Jake smiled, pushing the door open, “I’d almost forgotten you were a girl.”

She shoved past him, making sure that her elbow found its target in his ribcage.


	2. Chapter Two

The presentation had gone smoothly, thanks to Jake. He managed to deliver her speech easily, and was able to woo the beneficiaries into donating more than enough money to the expedition’s fund. They even had enough money to bring along an extra student to help assist with the dig. 

Amy shifted the weight of her carry-on that was digging into her shoulder. She’d been waiting at the plane gate for an hour, hoping for the doors to open.  She’d asked Jake to pick up the third member of their crew on his way to the airport, so he was running a bit late. Fortunately, they still had a little while until they were needed to be there.

To say she was excited was an understatement. She’d been working on building up an undeniable reason for her to travel to Egypt in order to dig for the lost tomb of Queen Nefertiti for ages. But, now that recent evidence of it actually existing had been uncovered, there was no way she was going to sit back and let somebody else find it before her. That had happened one too many times in her short life.

Egypt had always been a favorite of her and her brother’s. When they were younger, she’d always tell him myths about the gods and goddesses to help him go to sleep, and he’d attempt to return the favor by telling her a very in-depth guide of how the mummification process occurred. It never really helped her sleep, but it was good to bond over something, even if that something was the ancient preservation of organs.

“Hello, professor,” a cheery voice called from behind her, and she turned her head to spot Rowan Foster, one of her favorite students jogging towards her with a knapsack slung over one shoulder, with Jake following close behind.  “Sorry it took a little while. Professor Rosenbloom had a hard time convincing my mom that this trip was relatively safe.” 

“She seemed convinced Rowan was going to die in the desert of thirst,” Jake sighed, setting his carry-on bags in one of the seats nearby. “Rather than her getting skewered by a three thousand –year-old booby trap.”  Rowan shrugged, and walked over to one of the seats, collapsing in it with a undignified grunt.

Amy sighed worriedly. The idea of bringing a student to a dig like this didn’t stomach with her well. Given the circumstances, it was already more dangerous than a usual dig, which managed to kill people before. The only reason she was remotely okay with bringing Rowan was because the girl was one of the best athletes on their university fencing team, and she’d seen the girl hold her own in a fight.

Still, if the donators hadn’t insisted on bringing a student, she wouldn’t have invited the invitation to the girl, as much as she was a pleasure to have in class.

As they waited for their flight to come in, they discussed the details of their dig with each other. So far, researchers had discovered what looked like to be the entrance of the tomb, and had sent up tents for archeologists to bunk in while they worked.  Fortunately for them, the researchers who discovered the entrance were friends of Amy and Jake, having worked with them prior, and asked them to come right away.

Rowan seemed as excited for the expedition as Amy was, but seemed to like the anxiety that she held. Meanwhile, Jake seemed to only have anxiety. He agreed with her view on bringing along an inexperienced student to the dig, and wasn’t pleased when she’d asked him to pick Rowan up. There wasn’t much either of them could do, however.

“You sure you want to do this,” she asked the student warily. “You can still back out now, and we’d understand. Digs are incredibly dangerous.”

The girl nodded curtly, “I’m positive I want to come. I probably won’t get an opportunity like this for ages, so I better grab this one while it’s here.” She shifted awkwardly in her seat. “I _am_ a bit worried about the expedition itself, but I can’t let that just stop me…y’know?” She shrugged, and then sat back in her seat.  “If I’m too nervous about getting slaughtered, I won’t get anywhere in my life.”

Amy looked over to Jake, who gave a noncommittal shrug.

Before the conversation could continue, one of the workers announced the arrival of their flight, and said they could now come and start lining up because the door would open momentarily.  Amy took a deep breath, trying to relax her nerves. She’d been on plenty of digs like this before, there was nothing to worry about.

Except for the traps, poisonous creatures, lack of rain, and a whole mess load of things that could not only kill her, but her friends.

She sighed through her nose. This was going to be an interesting expedition.

\-------------

Rowan fidgeted in her airplane chair. Her butt was getting numb, and unfortunately, she’d volunteered to take the middle seat. She couldn’t slip into the aisle to stretch her legs because in her path was her snoring professor, and she didn’t even want to _attempt_ to wake him up.

She also wanted to walk because she was just so _nervous._ This was the first time she was actually going to go out in the world and put her skills to the test. Sure, she was still in school, but she’d learned so much, and it was better to start building some sort of credibility now, rather than later. However, she was so afraid she was going to mess up completely, or worse.

“I don’t know how he does it,” Professor Cahill mumbled next to her, and Rowan nearly jumped out of her seat. She was convinced she had fallen asleep minutes after Professor Rosenbloom. “He can sleep almost anywhere and through almost anything. Last dig we went on, there was a small scaffolding collapse and he didn’t even stir.” She shook her head, and Rowan bit down a chortle. Professor Cahill smiled, “Don’t tell him I told you that, alright?”

Smiling back, Rowan made an “X” over her heart with her finger. “I promise, professor.”

“Call me Amy,” The teacher insisted. “We’re going to be working together, after all. Professor Cahill seems to be a bit of a mouthful.”

Rowan couldn’t stop the snort that escaped her mouth, and then made a face, which caused the professor to laugh. “Yeah, it kind of is,” she sighed. “But, honestly, calling you something other than Professor seems a bit…weird.” She shrugged. “I’ll give it a shot though…Amy.”

The professor – no, _Amy,_ she corrected herself, gave a short nod, and then fidgeted in her seat, trying to get in a better position. “I’m going to get some sleep,” She told Rowan. “It’s going to be a long day tomorrow, even if we might not get to the dig site tomorrow. You do not want to be half-awake when we land.”

Rowan nodded. “I’ll try,” she assured her, before pointing a thumb at the unconscious professor next to her. “Though, I can’t see how I’ll get a good night’s rest with him snoring right there.”

Amy shot her a smile, before resting her head against the plane wall. Within seconds, her breathing had slowed and she was sound asleep, leaving Rowan all alone and awake.

She sighed, and leaned her head back against the seats headrest. Maybe sleep _would_ do her some good. After all, she’d barely gotten sleep the night before, trying to figure out how to pitch the idea to her mom for the third time that week, and packing her bag for the fifth time. She could tell she was running on fumes at that very moment.

Despite Professor Rosenbloom’s light snoring, Rowan’s eyes slowly grew heavier until she couldn’t hold them up any longer, and fell into a dreamless sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Co-authored with Eri. 
> 
> Thank her for telling me to get my butt writing.


End file.
